Stargazing
by loubug14
Summary: Rowena Ravenclaw contemplates the stars and her future.


_Written on behalf of House Mizu (Mahoutokoro) for the Golden Snitch's "May the Fourth Be With You" Challenge._

 _Character Prompt: Yoda - Write about Luna Lovegood OR Rowena Ravenclaw._

 _Word Count: 756 (not including A/N)_

 _A/N: I'm really intrigued by the role of Astronomy and Divination in HP. Hermione has no love for Divination, and the boys see it as a blow-off class, but just because our resident logician doesn't see its value, does it mean it's devoid? FF seems to have generally redeemed Luna Lovegood as a wise character who can find the value in non-traditional forms of knowledge and knowing. My thought is that such welcoming of knowledge—all forms of knowledge—goes back to the inception of her house._

* * *

It was a good night for stargazing.

Rowena pulled the light cloak around her shoulders and walked briskly from the castle. Salazar would probably berate her for wandering the grounds alone, especially in her condition, but she needed the fresh air. And since the astronomy tower wasn't complete, she needed to get away from the dull lights of the castle to _really_ see the sky.

She made her way through the forest until she reached a large clearing—one that would allow her to watch the stars, to read what they wrote. She conjured a soft blanket and lowered her body onto it.

She lay flat on her back, her dark hair haloing around her. She absently rubbed her growing abdomen, noting a slight pinch in her lower back. Not too long from now, she wouldn't be able to lay like this.

As she looked up at the sky, she locate the constellations she had been charting through her pregnancy: Ursa Major, the Great Bear; Taurus, the Bull; Virgo, the Virgin; and Aquila, the Eagle. She knew Salazar, Godric, and Helga didn't put much stock in Astronomy—or Divination for that matter—but Rowena knew that methods of knowledge were broad and varied, and the best way to resign oneself to ignorance was to dismiss the unknown.

Salazar had been surprised when she'd advocated for classes in both for their new school. You're too smart to be putting stock into star charts and tea leaves, he had told her. We should focus on the skills these young wizards and witches will need to survive and thrive in this world.

Rowena had simply smiled and, eventually, gotten her way. She knew the uncertainty of such knowledges weren't for everyone—after all, the future could be both cruel and kind.

She contemplated this as she read the stars that night. They spoke of great love, and great betrayal.

Of great love, she had no doubt. Salazar was everything she could hope for in a partner and lover: intelligent and quick-witted, thoughtful in his regard for her, generous in the bedroom. And they were both anxious over the arrival of their daughter, for whom they had hoped for many years. Helena, they had decided to name her; their shining light, their bright hope.

But in light of great love, great betrayal. She read the stars, which spoke of betrayal in the near future and the far future. She wondered at that—how she could be betrayed so many moons from now, after she and those she had loved would long be dead.

This is why Astronomy is a waste, Salazar would say. All we can know is the here and now. This speculating on the future, on this future betrayal, instead of focusing on what's important in the here and now.

He couldn't understand the feeling of peace that came over her as she watched these stars. Great betrayal, but great love. Could there be one without the other? Could she appreciate the depth of love—her love for Salazar, his for her, and both of theirs for their daughter?—without the possibility of hurt and loss? Could there be joy without sorrow? Summer without winter? Life without death?

The possibility of betrayal might frighten some, but to those who understood the stars, who understood the more ephemeral knowledge of the world, the future spoke of balance. That the world was comprised of both dark and light did not bother Rowena—it brought her peace.

After an hour of watching the stars and listening to the sounds of the forest, she slowly worked her way off the blanket and _Finited_ it away. Once again, she pulled her cloak close and took her time walking back to the castle. Salazar would just be finishing up in his office, and she would meet him as he made rounds to check the progress of the castle's construction.

"Where have you been?" he asked when he came across her at the front entrance of the castle. He pulled her close, picked a blade of grass off her cloak, and kissed her sweetly. When he pulled away, he let his right hand rest on the growing mound of our stomach.

"Just doing a bit of stargazing," she said, running her hand along his cheek.

He smiled indulgently at her. "So long as you aren't overtaxing yourself, darling. I need you and our daughter in good health."

She returned his smile. Perhaps great betrayal. But also, great love. And for now, that was enough.


End file.
